


have you got colour in your cheeks?

by airbornecheezit



Series: somewhere darker, talking the same shite [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon Compliant, Canon Related, Coming Out, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, how did this happen, i don't know what else really, i just like tagging I'll stop now, ronan is a bottom, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 15:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airbornecheezit/pseuds/airbornecheezit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wish there was an update status option but if you happen to glance at this - I have been far too busy to read BLLB as of late but I do own it so...the most optimistic date I can give u, for the next chapter to be posted, is Easter. I know, I know. That's ages away. I'm sorry. Thank you for all your support, though, people<3</p><p>Ronan visits Adam. And, oh, it's three a.m. Great.</p><p>  <em>baby, we both know that the nights were mainly made</em><br/><em>for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am horribly sorry for this drivel but I wrote it, like, a week ago and wanted to post it before The Dream Thieves came out. (Hurray, this is the first/only thing I've ever posted on here!) I apologise if they're OOC. I hate writing fanfics for books because of this reason and also because, I don't know, it's harder for me I guess. Also I apologise because - I must've read Raven Boys' end too quickly because I can't remember where Adam ended up EXACTLY. So. Oops? And I don't own it so I can't just check it. And checking online leads me nowhere? Internet is unreliable.
> 
> Try to enjoy.((((:
> 
> *Rated Teen for a li'l profanity, a li'l kissing (not that it's detailed, shhh I always feel insecure writing it shhhh). Sleep paralysis is mentioned, but not embellished/explored, in case anybody has an issue reading about it.  
> *Story title taken from "Do I Wanna Know?" by Arctic Monkeys  
> *Collection title taken from "Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?" by Arctic Monkeys

Adam heard the footsteps outside his little room in the church, but didn’t think anything of it. It was just the priest, probably, unable to sleep or checking whether any vagabonds were around and in need of care or blessing. Also, he was half asleep.

 

The knock, soft but loud in the night’s stillness, startled Adam. He closed the giant of a book he had in his hands and set it on the pillow. He wore shorts and a shirt and socks to keep off the insistent draft poking around the church at all times. The wood pulled at the socks’ cotton, like grubby children on their mother’s skirts.

 

He opened the door and dark eyes stared back at him. “Ronan?” he said, blinking at the ruffled boy. His white shirt was mussed and shadows danced around him, most prominent as bruises beneath his eyes.

 

“Hi, Parrish,” Ronan rumbled, glancing over Adam’s shoulder into the sparsely furnished, sparsely lit room. The lamp’s glow skittered across the warped floors and walls, turning everything orange and warm.

 

“What are you doing here?” The words were a little harsh, and rightly so. Ronan couldn’t just pop up at Adam’s door at three in the morning, unless he brought news that Gansey was in life threatening danger or something.

 

“I couldn’t--” There was the slightest of hesitations. Ronan was still looking into the room and out the window across it. “--escape my dreams. So I came to the church and you live here now, so I…”

 

“What if I was trying to sleep?”

 

Ronan gestured into the room. “I saw the light from under the door.” He entered without permission, sliding by Adam without touching him at all. “Were you reading?” He touched his fingers to the thick book on Adam’s pillow.

 

Adam shut the door, frustrated. He already had been, and restless, too. He was almost glad for the company, Lynch or no. He would’ve preferred Blue, but…things were a little strange around her now. They were strange around everyone, really. With Ronan it was always just _e_ stranged, slightly hostile. He didn’t give Adam as many strange looks, didn’t judge him -- at least it didn’t seem like it -- for letting Whelk die. “Yes, it’s _The Odyssey_.”

 

He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re actually reading it to do the report? I used Cliff Notes. And Gansey.”

 

“At least you’re actually doing it,” Adam muttered.

 

Ronan shrugged and sat on the bed, leaning back against the wall and dragging the volume into his lap. He leafed through it. He almost looked harmless, domestic, sitting there in sweats and a bed shirt, a book in his clutches. It was unsettling.

 

“Glad to see you making yourself comfortable,” Adam remarked sarcastically.

 

“Sorry,” Ronan responded, without sincerity, and flipped a page.

 

Adam pulled out the chair at the desk and sat in it. He watched the other boy, warring between irritation and curiosity and the odd sensation that if he just relaxed, just _let it_ , this would be a comfortable scene. “What if I want to sleep?” he asked, in the same tone.

 

“Be my guest.”

 

“This is my room.”

 

Ronan lifted his gaze, molten and direct. “Yeah, and I bet it’s a hell of a lot better than your old one. What did it look like anyway?”

 

The words are both scathing and not. “About the same size,” Adam answered, because he could. Because it was just easier to. “A lot more spiders, though, and colder.” He stared pointedly at Ronan. “Lot less visitors.”

 

“Because your father’s a giant fucking douche,” Ronan snapped back, and then snapped the book shut. Adam’s anger coiled up his insides like tentacles, strangling his organs. Ronan’s movements and expressions leaked danger as he scooted forward, feet landing flat on the floor about six inches from Adam’s. For the first time, Adam noticed he was barefoot. A nasty bruise snaked over the pale skin of one foot. “I’m glad you’re out of there now,” Ronan said, and Adam lifted his eyes to his. “The Parrish family household is a fucking mess you don’t need to be involved in.”

 

Adam parted his lips, closed them, licked them, said: “And all it took was you kicking his ass.” He surprised himself by smiling.

 

“It was only fair he took on somebody his own size,” Ronan replied. He looked over the lampshade and out the window. All Adam saw, following his gaze, was blackness beyond his own reflection, which was haggard. God, did he really look like that much shit? “And knowing he hurt you like that pissed me off already. Seeing it…” He did his smoker’s breath, as sharp and razor-edged as his face in the close light of the lamp. “It’s fucking bullshit.”

 

Quietly, Adam said, “I know.” He was still staring at his own sad, tired face. No bruises, though he may have been a little dark around the eyes as well.

 

“Do you?” A challenge echoed in the two syllables. The pads of his fingers grazed Adam’s cheek. Ronan’s face was fierce, practically blazing.

 

“What do you dream about?” Adam asked, copying Ronan’s tone.

 

Ronan’s touch dropped, left a ghostly aftertaste on Adam’s skin. “Everything,” he answered, “and nothing. I get…” His breath froze and his eyes danced over the ceiling. “I get trapped in them. It’s hard to wrestle out. Even drinking myself into a stupor doesn’t help.”

 

“You need to sleep--”

 

“It’s like sleep paralysis,” Ronan interrupted. Something vulnerable lurked in his skittish hands, clenching each other between his knees. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be left immobile, frozen inside your own head?” His eyelashes drifted down to touch purple cheekbones. He did look quite wrecked. Even his eyelids themselves were stark violet. “It’s…it’s…” His hands detached, curled into separate fists. He dug them into his thighs and straightened. “It’s fucking scary as shit,” he said.

 

Adam didn’t know what to say, heart beating irregularly. It felt like it was pulsing backwards. His eyes were dry and they hurt. “We can probably find something to help you,” he said finally. “A drug, hypnosis, I don’t know. Blue or her family--”

 

“I don’t want to involve anyone.”

 

Adam narrowed his eyes. “We have to do something--”

 

“No.” Ronan’s fingers were on Adam’s cheek again. Adam’s heart thumped faster but almost lighter, weightless and fluttering in his entire torso. “I’m trying to just do school, to make Gansey happy. This would be another thing to worry about, another setback.”

 

“Ronan,” Adam protested.

 

“He’s happy, Parrish,” he whispered. “I don’t want to take that away from him.”

 

“This isn’t just about Gansey. It’s about all of us.” He was fully aware of Ronan’s fingers on his face, unmoving but undeniably there. They were the same temperature as Adam’s skin, warmer than the air surrounding them. “Gansey would want you to tell him.”

 

Ronan shook his head, though he had to know it was true. He shifted his butt on the bed a little, so he was a couple of inches closer to Adam. Even with them both kind of leaning forward, they were still pretty far apart. If Adam sat on the edge of his chair, though…

 

I could kiss him, Adam thought, the sensation wild and unbidden. There’s no stupid superstitious curse around him.

 

Thinking it made Adam’s breath hitch a little. It was barely noticeable, but notice it Ronan did. “Come here,” he said, except it was more of a mumble. His knuckle brushed the corner of Adam’s mouth and nerves lanced his insides. His breath caught again, warmth stirring in the pit of his stomach.

 

He moved to sit beside Ronan on the bed, slid his hand over Ronan’s neck and slid the other on his thigh. Ronan cupped one of Adam’s cheeks, then both. Their noses bumped, and then their mouths. It was soft, tentative, warm, all kinds of things unimaginable from Ronan.

 

“I guess I should have known,” Adam said, breathless and lightheaded, when they pulled apart a mere centimeter. Their foreheads rested against each other.

 

“Should you?”

 

“This early a visit can only be a booty call,” he explained, and against his mouth, Ronan smiled.

 

“I was hoping for some peace, actually,” Ronan said. His eyelids were lowered. Beyond them the eyes themselves were dark, and he looked almost drunk.

 

“And you thought you could find that with me?”

 

Ronan shrugged. His pulse was as quick as Adam’s against Adam’s palm. “We _are_ in a church.” He pulled back further. His cheeks were flushed, more so than when he inhaled beer after beer after beer after beer. “I was thinking I could spend the night.”

 

Adam was pierced by alarm and something else. His eyebrows shot skywards. Whatever comfort and excitement he found in Ronan’s proximity, he wasn’t… He wasn’t… Well. “I don’t really think I’m prepared for, uh…that,” he replied, face hotter than the hottest point in Henrietta on the year’s hottest day.

 

Ronan smirked, and he said, “I meant here, in the church, maybe on your floor or something.” When he tugged Adam’s face closer, Adam didn’t protest. Ronan’s tongue was hot, wet, wicked. Adam’s insides and outsides jittered, and his hand on Ronan’s thigh slipped over and touched a place it really had no business being. Ronan let out a small noise that made Adam’s shoulder blades shake, and he felt Ronan’s dick twitch under his hand, reacting positively to his touch. “Or maybe in your bed, under your blankets, with no clothes on is good,” he amended, voice strained.

 

“Sorry,” Adam muttered. His ears were as hot as the skin in his own pants was beginning to be. He moved his hand away, and then himself. Ronan watched him seriously, maybe thoughtfully. Is that what desire looks like? Adam wondered as he watched the other boy lick his lips. “You can sleep in my bed. And not for -- making out, or anything. Human contact could help with the dreams, you know. And the floor isn’t comfortable at all.”

 

Ronan nodded. “Thanks?”

 

It was a sardonic question but regardless Adam replied, “You’re welcome.” They sat for a few awkward moments, Ronan staring at him and Adam staring at his hands. He was a walking, perpetual blush. Then they moved, Adam putting _The Odyssey_ on the desk and Ronan climbing under the covers, close to the wall. Adam shut off the lamp and the room plunged into darkness. It took a few blinks for his eyes to adjust to the faint light coming in through the window. He hesitated, watching Ronan’s eyes and sharp face glitter.

 

“You could stand there and look at me,” the other boy commented after a minute, “but if you come in here I promise to waive my right to bite.”

 

Adam smiled. “Accepted,” he said and got into the bed beside Ronan. Ronan snuggled close to him, smelling of aftershave and Chainsaw, and slid his arm between Adam’s dusky hair and the pillow. It was cozy, and once Adam’s heart slowed, the awkward tension in his muscles uncoiled.

 

Ronan set a surprisingly gentle kiss to Adam’s hairline, and the intimate gesture set the tension hard at work again. Ronan’s hand rubbed his chest, as if to soothe him again. “Goodnight, Parrish,” he slurred, the sound considerably more fuzzy and sweet when not brought upon by stupefying alcohol.

 

“Goodnight, Lynch,” Adam whispered back, relaxing, and slipped into a dreamless sleep, lips curled faintly up. Hopes raced in his subconscious peripheral -- that Ronan fell into an empty rest as well, and that in the morning he wouldn’t have to deal with any repercussions, or famous Lynch anger, or clammy regret. That this meant life could get better. For real, for good. For…

 

Just for good.


	2. how many secrets can you keep?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning (well, afternoon). The affair continues.
> 
> _so have you got the goods_  
>  _been wondering if your heart's still open_  
>  _and if so i want to know what time it shuts_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to popular demand, I have continued Adam and Ronan's adventures. I wrote this late at night for three days using my phone. So. It's not really up to par, but I still hope you'll enjoy. Some basic information might be incorrect and it might not be so book-like because it's been several months since I finished The Dream Thieves.
> 
> (I fixed everything and then it hecked up so some shit might look weird)
> 
> (Title again taken from "Do I Wanna Know?")

Ronan still dreamt that night - of Cabeswater and the way the trees whispered to him all their secrets, but so cryptically he couldn't hope to understand - but he had an easier time pulling himself out of it.

He opened his eyes, a flower crushed in his palm and Adam snoring open-mouthed beside him. Sunlight filtered through dust, lighting the room in a whirlwind of floating off-white specks. Surreptitiously, he slipped the bent petals between the wall and the mattress and turned on his side. Propped up by an elbow, he watched Adam sleep. Around Adam's mouth the skin was crusted with spit. Smiling softly to himself, Ronan kissed the edges of it and carefully lifted himself off the mattress.

In the bathroom he stared at his reflection. Water dripped from his harsh face. Except it looked softer, almost. There was no evidence that he had kissed Adam Parrish in the morning's wee hours, but even Blue would probably have been able to tell there was something, _something_ , different about Ronan Lynch.

A few hours - it was past noon now - of good sleep hadn't done much to lessen the bags darkening the skin beneath his eyes. But he felt better. Calmer.

He patted his face dry with a yellowed towel then returned to lower himself on the floor beside the mattress and watched Adam's chest move up and down. His lips were closed now and he was curled up, hands under his cheek and the pillow. He looked like a child. Ronan's chest cavity seized, uncomfortable with heat, and he averted his eyes to the room. Even in all its mess, it looked barren. He wondered if Adam would ever know it was he who had ensured Adam wouldn't be kicked out of here. He wondered if one day he'd tell Adam himself.

A noise came through Adam's nose, a freight train on the run and screeching to a halt. His throat burst open with a yawn and he blinked bleary eyes at the boy seated beside his hips. His sweet smile called up one of Ronan's own.

"Hey," Adam whispered, although the birds and the city and even the nuns were loud outside this tiny room. It was late; but the stillness of the enclosure echoed in Ronan as well. For once he didn't feel like he was a match's flame, licking at a firework.

"Hey," he whispered back. "Good afternoon."

Adam's smile deepened another margin. He held Ronan's gaze like it was easy, like it soothed instead of burnt. Ronan twisted onto his knees, scooted forward. Approaching a challenge. Adam's head fell back, relaxed, and Ronan's hovered over. He sucked in a breath to ask a question but Adam was already smoothing his fingers across Ronan's cheeks, his ears, his skull. His lips nudged Ronan's lips, his breath nudged Ronan's breath.

It was only the third time he'd done it but he was already deciding it was his favourite thing in the world. He would rather lazily drag his tongue between Adam's lips than drag his car over the finish line ahead of Kavinsky's, any day.

Several minutes later, Adam had gone to the bathroom and they were sitting on the floor side-by-side with the mattress pressing gently at their backs. Silence caressed the oxygen they breathed, quietly, in and out.

"So," ventured Adam, eyes anywhere but near Ronan, "how do we do this?" Ronan stayed silent, darkness chewing at his gut. "Do we...tell Gansey? Do we keep it a secret?"

"Gansey has enough things to worry about," Ronan said flatly, repeating himself. It was a mantra in his mind. Repetition kept him from spilling everything. Repetition kept him closed.

"Yeah, but..." Adam glanced at him, clearly uncomfortable. "If we're going to be making out, surely *someone* should know."

"We know," Ronan pointed out, sharply. An awkward silence beat the edges of his ribs. "I'm not ready to tell him," he amended, careful to be softer. "Can we...take it slow?"

 

* * *

 

And they did take it slow. Adam couldn't begrudge him that; he was scared to tell Gansey himself. Not because Gansey was homophobic - he wasn't one to judge, unless you didn't think Glyndwr was interesting, in which case you became a frustrating anomaly, a person to which he must preach all Owain's merits - but because Gansey might see it as a betrayal, such secret-keeping, such _sneaking_. He had already grown apart from them both. Adam feared this might prove to be too much, and Adam was so very tired of fighting.

So they kept it secret. Ronan came over to get help with school or late at night when he was scared to sleep, and when he stayed overnight, curled together with Adam like those proverbial peas in their proverbial pods, he told Gansey he'd slept on Adam's floor. He'd done that on rare occasion even before the kissing started; sleep came and left easier above the church, better still when he was near Adam. But now he was closer than ever.  
  
Adam slipped Ronan out of his shirt and traced his ever-shifting tattoo with his fingers. Ronan carded his through Adam's hair of the country's dusty shades. He kissed Adam's collar bone. Adam kissed his hip bone. They moved with one another in stark, vivid reality. A normal person would say it was like a dream, but Ronan had had his full share of dreams. Adam was just right. Easy and hard, all tangled and mixed. Like himself.

A month later - it was a Saturday, it was raining and the roof was shaking but everything was still sticky with heat; Ronan had brought Adam a fan but it only circulated the humidity - they were stretched out on the bed, nibbling on a popsicle they were sharing. Ronan had come over without needing an excuse because Gansey was with Blue. A deeper, nastier part of Adam was bitter at the thought of the two of them spending time together. The other part was glad Gansey was distracted enough not to notice how distracted Adam got around Ronan, when the group was out doing Glyndwr-y things or Adam was just over at Monmouth.

The surprising part of all this was that Adam could still focus on school. None of his assignments the past few weeks had been turned in late or unfinished. In fact, Ronan's hadn't been either. Right now, a mathematics textbook sat open on their stomachs with a dull pencil and an unmarked piece of paper. That was, it was mostly unmarked. Ronan had lazily scribbled some cawing ravens on it. One had a bubble attached to its beak,"fuck math!" encased rather neatly within.

"Classy," remarked Adam.

"I'm all about the fucking class," Ronan retorted. He turned his head and gave a smidgen of a smile. His face was glossy with sweat, his cheeks pink. It was almost the same shade he flushed when Adam did something daring like unzip Ronan's jeans and slip a hand inside. It was a new experience entirely, making someone's breath hitch and release on a moan. And not just anyone, but Ronan begrudgingly-his-friend-by-association-of-Gansey Lynch.

Adam chewed on the popsicle stick. His mouth and face and fingers were all gooey with melted, sugary water. And sweat. He was feeling dreadfully lazy but high of spirits. His life could be figured out. His desired future was certainly not unattainable. Anything was possible.

Magic was real.

He smiled back at Ronan to try and portray all this, inconspicuously and simultaneously. Ronan's smile shifted, as if to say he knew. Then his head shifted as well, and he licked the popsicle juice off Adam's lips, off the inside of his mouth. With a thunk and a clatter and a crumple, the homework supplies slid off onto the floor. Adam sucked in a breath as Ronan's harsh teeth tore at his collarbone, bruising where the Algionby, or a regular, shirt could hide. Ronan sucked in a breath as Adam's callouses cruised down his shirt then down the seat of his jeans.

The room was already too hot, but the heat of Mother Nature had nothing on Ronan Lynch.

"Ronan," Adam gasped as Ronan flicked the popsicle stick onto the floor with his tongue. The air seemed to shimmer. Was that a trick on his eyes or Henrietta's summer?

Ronan paused, his hips tentatively pressed against Adam's. He was breathing hard, too. Was he shaking? Was that another eye-trick? "Yeah?" he prompted hoarsely when Adam silently kept staring.

He blinked. He cleared his throat. He felt like a lightning strike. He felt like _several_  lightning strikes. "I don't know. Are you..."

Ronan seemed to redden even more. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, and his groin scraped Adam's. They were both wearing shorts, the material soft and prone to sliding. Nerve endings sparked. Adam lost his train of thought, eyes zeroing in on Ronan's swollen mouth.

"Am I _what_?" asked Ronan.

Adam inhaled a short breath that either contained too little or too much oxygen. "...Sure?" he said, voice small.

Ronan's eyes softened - they did that a lot, Adam had never noticed before, and he couldn't say whether it was because of their...thing or whether he just had never been looking closely - and he tilted his head. He looked like Chainsaw. "We don't have to do anything," he said, gentle as the touch of his fingers when he stroked Adam's face before he fell asleep. Before Adam could respond, before Adam could fully form thoughts, decide whether he was, indeed, ready to throw his heterosexuality completely out the way, a car door slammed upstairs. Feet, two pairs of feet, slapped up the stairs. A laugh, it sounded like _Blue's_  laugh, slammed up inside Adam's skull.

Ronan jumped up like Adam had just spontaneously burst into flames. He ran into the bathroom, then twisted back, paused in the doorway, looked Adam over, and gave a thumbs-up as a fist beat at the door and Gansey's voice shouted his name. Then he darted out of sight again.  
  
Adam was frozen, heart pounding, not encouraged. Was that thumbs-up meant to encourage him? Did it mean his hard-on, now dwindling thanks to that shot of pure fear and horror and surprise, wasn't visible? Did it mean he should pretend everything was normal and Ronan wasn't here? No; the BMW was up front and Ronan's shoes were tucked beside the door. Gansey wasn't blind, and neither was Blue. If he acted antsy or like Ronan wasn't hiding in the bathroom - and what _was_  he doing anyway? jerking off? that seemed unfair - they'd know something was up, besides the obvious in his shorts, and Gansey would get all suspicious and give him _a look_ , and Blue would give him hers, and-

"Adam! Ronan!" shouted Gansey. "I know you're both here!"

"Are you asleep?" ventured Blue, sounding very much like a mother hen. That was to say, like Gansey. "Don't you know it's three in the afternoon?"

"I know what time it is!" Adam shouted back. His voice came out hoarse and angry rather than nervous. Normal, he reminded himself, normal. "Can't anybody have a lazy day on Saturday?"

"Yeah, come on," added Ronan, exiting from the bathroom. He looked refreshed, albeit still sweaty and red. He could put that off as the heat, though. Could Adam? "Can't he fucking relax on his day off?"

He yanked open the door, and Adam caught a glimpse of his condescending brow before he faced the guests.

"Relax?" echoed Blue, perhaps distastefully. She didn't sound any less happy than she had a moment ago. That nasty part of Adam twinged. "With you here?"

"That does seem a bit far-fetched," Gansey said. "But we have more important business. Are you dressed?" His head popped between Ronan's and the door. His cheeks were pink, too, and he was grinning.

Adam gingerly rose to his feet. "In a second," he said, and carefully didn't look at Ronan as he passed him into the bathroom.

He gazed at the boy in the mirror. Dirty hair, dirty mouth, dirty mind. His lips were still red, but with popsicle juice or kissing?

Gansey wouldn't know, he told himself firmly as he emptied his bladder then washed his hands and his face. Gansey couldn't know. There weren't any clues lying about for him to pick up and find. Nor were there any for Blue.

It was fine, it was fine. He wasn't going to out himself, or Ronan.

Yet.

* * *

 

  
It happened so simply. It happened so fast.

Ronan had Chainsaw in his lap. She was so big now, and she fluttered away from him, to Adam. Her beak pecked his fingers, playfully and nowhere near enough to hurt, and he laughed. He caught Ronan's eye, both of them grinning. Noah occassionally flickered into view, to laugh at them or stare or reennact his death, the latter of which was occuring more and more often.

They played a game with Chainsaw, sitting in the center of Gansey's miniature Henrietta. They hid shredded paper or mint leaves among the buildings, one of them holding her to their chest so she couldn't peek, and then released her to find them. She was good at this game, maybe too good for it to be a proper challenge.

It was quick. It was a stroke of bad luck.

Chainsaw was getting bored, irritable. " _Kerah_ ," she cried, and hopped towards the door. When Ronan ignored her, she flapped her wings and glared. Adam laughed and she swiveled her head to glare at him, too.

Abruptly he pressed his lips together, containing himself, and met Ronan's gaze. He leaned over the only little building separating them.

It was a stroke of misfortune. It was ill-timing.

Neither boy heard the footsteps on the stairs over Chainsaw's croaking and cawing. Adam's lips were soft on Ronan's. Ronan smiled, leaning forward more and splaying his hand beside Adam's knee. He was careful not to smash anything.

They were both sitting with their legs folded into diamonds. They were comfortable and happy and just as Adam parted his mouth and leaned forward more insistently, the door flew open on a wave of laughter.

Both boys reflexively yanked away. Ronan hopped to his feet. Chainsaw startled and skittered to his room.

It was too late. The laugh had cut short.

"I'll talk to you later, Jane," Gansey said into the phone. His voice was level. His face was a frozen mask. Confusion furrowed into his eyebrows. " 'Bye." He tucked the phone away. He stared a few seconds more, eyes flipping between Adam and Ronan. "What the hell is this?" He asked it as if posing the question to a television audience.

Adam jumped up too, then. "Gansey-" he began.

Ronan could see the anger melting into Gansey, other versions of him fading as he scrambled to find purchase in this newly upsidedown world.

"No," Gansey interrupted, still looking at Ronan. "What did you do?" It was an accusation. "What have you been hiding from me?" He glanced at Adam, a millisecond of hurt.

The edges of Adam's face crumbled. Answering anger spilled in Ronan's gut. "I didn't do a fucking thing."

"Then why -" He gestured uncertainly at his Henrietta model. "- were you making out?" To his credit he didn't stumble over the words.

"Well, I can't really make out with Blue, can I?" Adam retorted.

Gansey furrowed his brow at him, this time incredulous as well as confused. "So you're kissing Ronan behind my back?"

"I can kiss anybody I want to," Ronan reminded him. Gansey's eyes flickered, and Ronan knew he was thinking about Kavinsky.

He looked put off. "I...know that but...why..." Hopelessness fluttered in his hands. "Why _each other_?" A thought visibly struck him. Suspicion erased progress. "And for how long?"

Adam glanced at Ronan, and the fear there, the cry for help, made Ronan's heart seize and pound. He straightened his back and gathered his resolve and answered, "Five weeks."

Gansey looked stricken. "That's..." He added up moments in his head, fingers twitching. The many times Ronan hadn't come back after his nightly, insomnia-induced walks. Barging into Adam's and finding Ronan already there. The looks between them. The proximity. The guilt Ronan sometimes saw on Adam's face and could feel all over his own.

Gansey pinched his nose and slammed the door behind him with his foot. He leaned back on it and closed his eyes. He swore several times, and Ronan exchanged a glance with Adam. His anger was thrumming, ready if need be. The guilt was there. He wasn't as afraid as he thought he would be, now that they had reached the inevitable.

 _I'm gay, Gansey,_  he thought at the space between them. _There it is: I'm fucking gay._

Gansey sighed and stood and dropped his hand and stared at them a little longer. Adam wiggled uncomfortably, and Ronan resisted the impulse to set a hand on his shoulder then remembered the cat was out of the bag and it no longer mattered.

Adam hesitated, then placed his hand over Ronan's and squeezed. Ronan had to smile, showing teeth but perhaps not appearing so feral.

Gansey swore again. "Is this...a relationship?" he asked like it pained him. All his finesse had scattered. "Are you...in love?" His eyes widened as if he couldn't believe those words had left his mouth aloud, and directed at his friends.

Ronan's entire body flushed. He didn't think he knew the answer to that question.

Gansey lifted his hands in surrender. "Never mind! I can't believe this. I can't believe you two." He frowned. "This..."

"Don't ask any more questions," suggested Adam. "It has nothing to do with you."

"Nothing...? How does it have _nothing_ -"

"We're not..." He briefly looked at Ronan, cheeks red like they were trying to catch fire. "It isn't out of spite. It just..."

"Is," finished Ronan.

"That was wonderfully put," Gansey said. "I understand. Completely." He pinched his nose, rubbed his nose, rubbed his chin, pinched his chin. "You two are in a secret relationship. Exactly what I needed to make my Friday better." He lifted his gaze. It wasn't molten anymore. "Are you happy then? Together? Sneaking and keeping secrets?"

"Yes," Adam answered without hesitation. Ronan grinned.

Gansey's frown deepened. "Don't..."

"What?" Ronan's smile slipped. Here it was: the order for them both to stay away, the order for Ronan to be kicked out, the order to shred the most important friendship Ronan would ever have.

Gansey's nose crinkled. "Don't make out on my stuff again. Please. You might smash Nino's."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like writing different versions of Gansey finding out. Sorry.


	3. have you no idea that you're in deep?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TECHNICALLY the title of this chapter should be the title of chapter 2 if you're going by the way the song goes but...
> 
> i meant to post this a long, long time ago, it's been written since...shortly after i posted chapter 2, but i'm really insecure about it and i've been CRAZY busy
> 
> this is where i start to align my version of canon with book version of canon. there will be another chapter after i've read the third book, and around thanksgiving maybe? i don't want to make any promises.
> 
> also i've been spelling glendower as glyndwr it's the original spelling i believe
> 
> warning: there's a sex scene. i thought you guys deserved it(: [so this chapter should be rated mature i suppose proceed with caution!]

Blue stared at them, mouth open, and looked at Gansey as if for confirmation that she'd heard the words correctly and it wasn't a joke.

He gave her a nod and she narrowed her eyes first at Adam then at Ronan. The way her eyes skittered over him told Adam a lot about the awkwardness still between them. Would it ever go away?

"You're serious?" she said.

"I don't lie," replied Ronan, as he was fond. After all, it was the truth. He met Adam's gaze for a second.

"You've been hiding this for over a month?" she demanded. Her voice was skeptical, incredulous. Now she had to rearrange her entire view on them both. Adam's stomach knotted.

"That isn't that long," he muttered.

"We could've kept it for years," pointed out Ronan.

"No," she said, stubbornly. "You couldn't have. Not something as big as this."

Adam looked at Ronan. Was she right?

* * *

 

Adam left with Gansey to his parents' house.

The night before, he and Ronan lounged in Ronan's room and taunted Chainsaw and then they went for a walk and Ronan pinned Adam up against the wall of St. Anne's, the city dark around them.

Gansey rolled his eyes, knowingly, at them as they walked out the door. He was settling well, accepting well. Occasionally Blue teased them, even in public, but of course it was a secret to the rest of Henrietta. Except perhaps 300 Fox Way and Joseph Kavinsky.

It was all beginning to feel normal.

* * *

 

Adam came back. Ronan had crashed the Pig and then dreamt another one with Joseph Kavinsky. Of course, thought Adam, of course.

Gansey voiced this aloud.

Ronan sucked in air, blew out air. He looked at Gansey. "I have something else to tell you, too..."

Magic was real. He had shown them that when he told them about Chainsaw's origin.

Magic was deplenishing, he told them now. Nothing was the way it should be anymore. Thanks to Adam's own sacrifice, he could already feel that in his muscles, in his bones. Having words to it gave a certain bit of his mind peace, no longer scrambling quite as desperately.

"What can we do?" asked Blue, frown lines on her brow. Her hatred of being normal stood out in her eyes. She wanted to be able to help, to offer psychic insight. All she could do was speculate.

"I don't fucking know," Ronan answered.

* * *

 

  
None of them knew, until later.

Before that, Adam told Ronan about wandering around lost and not remembering a thing and his heart clamored in his chest and Ronan pressed his hand, palm flat, over it and kissed his lips softly.

It was nighttime. The barest of chills hung on the air. Magic flickered all over the place. Its erratic tempo thrummed in Adam's blood.

It thrummed between he and Ronan.

They stood in the little room above the church. The only light was throwback from street lamps and businesses, catching on the window like dew. Their foreheads touched. Ronan inhaled his breaths slow and careful, a guide for Adam to follow until his heart had slowed.

"We'll figure it out," Ronan whispered.

Adam wasn't sure he believed him. He wanted to. He fisted his hands at Ronan's shoulders and opened his eyes. Ronan was already looking at him, so he brought their mouths together. He undid the soothing they'd done with wet tongue and frenzied yanks, bringing his pulse up to speed again.

Ronan slipped Adam out of his shirt and scraped his collar bone with teeth. Adam unbuttoned Ronan's jeans. They were shoeless. It was easy to shove down pants, socks as collateral.

Adam paused with his fingers gently pulling on the waistband of Ronan's underwear. He was breathing hard. The mattress pressed at his ankles. Ronan's skin was smooth with shadows, swirling ink.

Their eyes met. Fingers grazed Adam's ribs. They hadn't really talked about anything more than a little fooling around since the time Gansey and Blue had interrupted.

"Are you sure?" asked Adam as he had then.

"Are you?" Ronan hissed. His lips pressed soft to Adam's temple.

Adam silently posed the question to himself. His skin flushed. He pulled away from Ronan, knelt by the desk, and pulled lube and condoms out of a drawer. Ronan gleamed. Adam flushed hotter, breath hitching.

"Yes," he said. His voice was stronger than it sounded in his head. His lungs trembled.

Ronan slipped off his underwear and didn't give Adam a chance to appreciate the nudity. He stepped forward, he grabbed him, he dragged him down to bed.

They moved more slowly than he had imagined they would, because of course he had imagined this. He wasn't surprised that Ronan was gentle; he had come to expect that a long while ago.

Ronan slid his hands up and down Adam's back, scratching the way he did Chainsaw's feathers, and kissed from one shoulder to the other. He murmured Adam's name and his breath and the urgency in his voice covered Adam in shivers.

He used his tongue to make a path down Ronan's torso and nibbled at his navel while Ronan twisted and sucked in air. He hesitated at his cock. Then, before Ronan could tell him he didn't have to, he took it in his mouth.

His reward was a bucking of hips, fistfuls of his hair being tugged, and a "son of a  _fucking_ , Adam".

He didn't have any finesse, wasn't sure, exactly, what to be doing, but Ronan kept moaning, his voice kept catching, he held his hips back so he didn't gag Adam. Instead he sort of swiveled on the bedsheets, and Adam took him in deeper while holding his gaze. Ronan choked, closed his eyes, threw his head back into the pillow.

“Yes,” he hissed, and it was hard to smile around a dick, but Adam managed. He hummed, and Ronan hissed again, this time incomprehensibly. “Adam, you fucking-” His words cut off in a moan, as Adam tentatively cupped his balls and swirled his tongue on Ronan’s tip. It was a heady taste, not entirely unpleasant, but the best part was Ronan’s chest heaving, his half-formed syllables, every movement a curse and a plea. “Adam-” he whispered, and then his hips were jerking and he was coming. Adam wasn't ready and yanked back, lips popping off with an obscene sound. Cum hit him in the throat and chin and, startled, he laughed.

Ronan looked up. His face spread in a grin, and he laughed wildly, too. He tugged Adam up and wiped his face clean with the heel of his hand. He kissed him, and he reached blindly for the lube and a condom and pressed them against Adam's hip.

"Now I want you to fuck me," he murmured against the hollow of Adam's throat. He lifted his head and met Adam's gaze with heavily lidded eyes. Adam's skin went molten.

He smiled back and dragged his bottom lip against Ronan's ear. "I can do that," he whispered, nipping skin as he traveled downward again. He urged Ronan to roll onto his stomach, gaining confidence as his opened the lube and coated his fingers in it.

He dragged them down Ronan's ass. Ronan hissed, hissed louder and clamped teeth down on his arm as Adam rubbed around the rim of him.

He slid his finger in slowly, skin thrilling at the newness as Ronan stretched to make room, as Ronan let off a string of swear words and ground his hips against the sheets. "Adam," he groaned. Pleaded.

Adam had to smile now, euphoria and need mixing uncomfortably in his veins. He added another finger, a little more lube. He was aching, aching hard now, to think he was preparing Ronan for himself.

He added a third finger. "Fuck fuck _fuck_ ," Ronan choked hoarsely and arched back and took Adam's fingers deeper. On impulse, Adam skimmed his teeth over Ronan's ass cheek. His heart pounded, ecstatic. " _Adam_ ," he repeated, desperate.

"Are you begging me?" he asked, breathlessly. His ribcage shook.

" _Yes_."

Adam grinned. He removed his fingers slowly and bit his lip as he slipped the condom over himself and then liberally applied lube. He slid up over Ronan and kissed the nape of his neck, the head of his cock pressing lightly into Ronan's ass. Ronan turned his head and met Adam's eyes. His cheeks were red, his eyes were damp, his breaths were ragged. Adam stretched his neck and kissed him, brief, then holding his gaze, he pushed himself, slow and gentle, into him.

"Oh God," he rasped, and choked, and buried his face in Ronan's tattoo. He sank in deeper. "Oh _fuck_ , Ronan-"

They had to move desperately after that, Ronan meeting every urgent thrust, their harsh gasps and the slaps of their skin filling the little room. The nuns could probably hear them, Adam thought. A flame burst in his belly and he used one elbow to help hold his weight as the other arm collapsed, the limb brushing beneath Ronan's stomach. His hand grabbed Ronan's dick and pumped, wildly out of tune with their thrusts.

The insane thought that he loved Ronan popped, unbidden, in his head as his orgasm came over him in a sudden jerk of his hips, a sudden explosion in his stomach that curled his toes and practically combusted his sanity.

Weak and pliable and quivering, he sucked mouthfuls of air into his mouth and kept pulling on Ronan's dick until he, too, stiffened with a low groan. He came messily, all over the bed and his stomach and Adam's hand.

"Fuck," he whispered, and slumped as well.

For several seconds they lay there, still. Then Adam slid out and off and tossed the condom into the trashcan beside the desk. Ronan rolled onto his back and smiled at him, tired and satisfied. Adam's muscles - including his heart? - hummed. He smiled back.

He kissed Ronan softly and grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on the desk. He wiped clean Ronan's stomach, then his hand, then, halfheartedly, the bed. He lay down beside him and Ronan rolled his head closer, lips brushing Adam's shoulder.

Adam's chest swelled. Tender words? Tender feelings? He didn't say anything at all. Neither did Ronan. They embraced the silence, breathed it in, a little longer, drowsy and smiling.

The stickiness got to Adam, though. He always seemed to carry dirt on him, someplace, but the cum beneath him on the sheet and on his own skin embarrassed him.

He turned his head to Ronan's hair and asked, hesitantly, "Do you want to take a shower?"

"Together?" asked Ronan, tilting his chin. The devil played in his eyes. Adam's cock stirred.

"Yes," he said, grinning.

* * *

 

The world was chaos. The world was lightning and magic and the Gray Man, who had—

This was overwhelming, wasn't it? They were _teenagers_ , for Christ sakes.

That nasty part of Adam reared its head, kept trying to blame Gansey.

But it wasn't Gansey's fault magic was real, wasn't Gansey's fault magic was here in Henrietta and unbalanced.

It wasn't Gansey's fault that Kavinsky was crazy and went up in flames and style.

It wasn't Gansey's fault Adam helped steady Henrietta's power.

It most definitely wasn't Gansey’s fault that Adam and Ronan were...that he was...

It wasn't Gansey's fault Adam was scared - terrified? - of what he felt. Because Blue had been the simple thing, and a little attraction, and mutual like, and he did respect her, admire her, an awful lot.

What he felt for Ronan was those things - minus the simplicity, mostly - but also a whole lot more.

They stood in front of the cave and breathed in crisp air. But, before that, they stood among the trees and Adam teared up while Ronan's mother came back to life. He grabbed for Ronan's hand after he had hugged his mother furiously, and now she was with Matthew.

The world was all delight, and melancholy maybe, and the shimmer of power, vivid on the breeze.

Adam and Ronan shared a smile and Ronan squeezed his fingers. Adam was gloriously content. His eyes were yet damp with tears. Ronan's were red, as was the skin beneath.

Adam sidled up closer and kissed the shell of Ronan's ear. Blue was looking at them but that was okay. Caught on a whim, a fireball of feeling that would burn up and suffocate him if he didn't breathe out the smoke, he whispered, "I love you."

So now they were here, in crisp air, and Ronan hadn't spoken a word to him, and Adam felt the weight of a heavy stare, and Adam glanced over but Ronan was frowning at the darkness.

"Are we ready for this?" asked Blue, serious and also frowning. Sensible, though she'd hate to hear it, as she always did.

Ronan laughed, dry. "Is anybody ever ready for anything?"

Was that a dig? Adam didn't know for sure but it clenched his chest anyway.

The content from earlier was completely gone. It had dissipated when Ronan hadn't said anything back, or squeezed his hand again, or kissed him, or even _looked_ at him. And he'd had plenty of time to do any of those things or all.

Blue narrowed her eyes at him, unappreciative.

They had to make the cave safe, and they weren't going to do that tonight. So they returned to 300 Fox Way.

The Gray Man was there, in the driveway. Seeing him made Adam feel sick.

Maura wasn't there, in her bedroom. Not seeing her made him feel sick.

Instead there was a note. The words seared Adam's eyes:

_Glyndwr is underground. So am I._

 


End file.
